


Last into the Night

by fosfomifira



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, WWII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 16:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3388661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fosfomifira/pseuds/fosfomifira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is full of longing and all alone in the middle of yet he worst war the world has seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last into the Night

There are noises everywhere, men everywhere. Bucky knows the routine all too well, the way to ignore the guy snoring next to you, the guy who drools on your blanket, the ones who farts, the ones who jerks off and the ones who're just itching to pick up a fight because they don't know what else to do with their fists and their mouths. 

Some guys miss their homes and some guys are relieved to be gone and far away. Bucky knows where they're coming from. Food is food and it always tastes better when you know you're going to get it no matter what. Bed are little more than cots, but there are hardly any bugs around, the blankets have been washed at some point in the not so distant past. Their clothes almost, almost fit them. Boots are hard to break in, but they keep most of the cold and mud and water out. Years ago he would have been grateful to have a roof over his head and some food in his stomach, but now he's grown older and greedier and it's just not enough. 

The guys seem to like him, his own men, the other NCOs and their men as well. Charm came to him naturally, the way some people can do math on their heads or sing on pitch. It got him what he wanted back when he couldn't pay for anything, when his fingers didn't move fast enough to pinch that apple, grab some bread. It got him out of trouble almost as often as it got him in trouble, fingers tracing the hem of a girl's skirt, his mouth kissing the back of her neck. Here it gets him extra rations, cigarrettes and favors to cash in when the moment is right. He's good at what he does, better than just about everyone around him, but he hides it well. He doesn't want to draw attention and get himself sent off to some stupid mission. The last guy selected for special training didn't come back, nor did the three guys before him, and Bucky is determined to live through this war no matter what. 

It feels too familiar at times, the masks he wear, the parts he plays and the things he says. It's a skill learned a long time ago. The more friendly you are, the more open you appear to be the less guys will come after you, trying to steal away any secrets you might have. Steve never got it, the way he kept his walls up around everyone back at the orphanage, that sketchbook of his so close to his chest. Bucky tried to teach him to look like everybody else. Normal gets ignored, he said, but Steve wasn't one to follow advice if it meant backing away from a fight. 

He should know better than to think of Steve here, where anyone could see him. Bucky said he didn't have a girl waiting for him and they all took it to mean he had more than one, more than two, maybe ten. It was exactly what he wanted. Steve's letters only get read at the darkest hours of the night, when no one else can see the expression on Bucky's eyes. There'd be no way to explain the way he misses that skinny boy, that short fella with the bright eyes and the big mouth and the way he kisses. No one else can know the way they know how to touch each other, how to make each other come quickly and how to make each other last. 

It's dark and it's going to get darker and no one told him just how cold an Italian night can be. Bucky touches himself quickly, his hand hard and fast and almost too dry on his own cock. Steve would tell him to slow down, to enjoy himself, to spread his legs a little wider and let him look, to make it good. 

Another battle's waiting for them tomorrow and Bucky knows better than to expect anything from it. With a little luck he'll survive in one piece, live to write another letter and tell Steve just how lonely it feels here, surrounded by so many damned people but no one that matters, no one that knows him for who he truly is.


End file.
